from Fieldnotes
VI
In the way father invites mother's ghost
out to the garden
after supper the crows
after blessing the ground for hours
want a word with me
I know I know —
all this talk of talking to the dead
and not one word of them talking back
When you said Forgive me I've gone
and told you far too much
the eldest of the five hellebores
she had planted
the day before she died
livened just a little
IV
Some nights her name
comes bounding down the canyon
its music known to root
you stories deep
Born still my twin
hastens to sing when frightened
and if we're ever freed I pray
to two of us
dissolve over
the sheriff's prized cherry trees
then recompose soon
after thereby
totaling seven —
the half here half there number
VIII
Some nights the people made of ash
in the dream I have
yet to name
are led to safety
the tulip and black dove unite
as do the queen
and sun who first condemned them
Whistle says father
when cleaning out the stalls
but never when leading
a lamb to slaughter
This and only this
will I leave you
This my life's law and practice
X
Into the opening only I was thrown
my hat and boots
the valley’s now
And like the others
living underground words like
carry meant absence
covering the eyes
with the right hand
meant more water or I need more time
and don’t get me started on the squall
that hit or how it winnowed
down the surrounding
trees to mere slivers
the way out to the scent of wet straw
Not only are we born
dreaming says father
but we are both dreamers and dream
the two of us coatless
the fence nearly
mended the horses
grazing still at the far end of the field
ξ
Tommy Archuleta's work has appeared in the New England Review, Laurel Review, Lily Poetry Review, and The Cortland Review. His full-length debut collection entitled, Susto, is slated for release April 2023 through the Center for Literary Publishing as a Mountain/West Poetry Series title. Also forthcoming Spring of 2023 from Lily Poetry Review & Press is his first chapbook, Fieldnotes.